Complete Works of Frances Burney

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by Frances Burney


  My dear Miss Cambridge will easily feel that this was a plea not to be answered. Yet the attendance upon this princess was to be incessant, — the confinement to the court continual; I was scarce ever to be spared for a single visit from the palaces, nor to receive anybody but with permission, — and, my dear Miss Cambridge, what a life for me, who have friends so dear to me, and to whom friendship is the balm, the comfort, the very support of existence!

  Don’t think me ungrateful, meanwhile, to the sweet queen, for thus singling out and distinguishing an obscure and most unambitious individual. No indeed, I am quite penetrated with her partial and most unexpected condescension; but yet, let me go through, for her sake, my tasks with what cheerfulness I may, the deprivations I must suffer would inevitably keep me from all possibility of happiness.

  Though I said but little, my dear Mrs. Delany was disturbed and good Mr. Smelt much mortified, that a proposition which had appeared to them the most flattering and honourable, should be heard only with dejection. I cast, however, the whole into my father’s disposal and pleasure.

  But I have time for no more detail, than merely to say, that till the offer comes in form, no positive answer need be given, and therefore that I am yet at liberty. Write to me, then, my dearest Miss Cambridge, with all your fullest honesty, and let me know which you wish to strengthen — my courage in making my real sentiments openly known, or my fortitude in concealing what it may be right I should endure....

  Monday Night,

  I have now to add, that the zealous Mr. Smelt is just returned from Windsor, whither he went again this morning, purposely to talk the matter over with her majesty. What passed I know not, — but the result is, that she has desired an interview with me herself; it is to take place next Monday, at Windsor. I now see the end — I see it next to inevitable. I can suggest nothing upon earth that I dare say for myself, in an audience so generously meant. I cannot even to my father utter my reluctance, — I see him so much delighted at the prospect of an establishment he looks upon as so honourable. But for the queen’s own word “permanent,” — but for her declared desire to attach me entirely to herself and family! — I should share in his pleasure; but what can make me amends for all I shall forfeit? But I must do the best I can.

  Write me a comforting and strengthening letter, my dearest Miss Cambridge. I have no heart to write to Mickleham, or Norbury. I know how they will grieve: — they have expected me to spend the whole summer with them. My greatest terror is, lest the queen, from what Mr. Smelt hinted, should make me promise myself to her for a length of years. What can I do to avoid that? Anything that has a period is endurable but what can I object that will not sound ungrateful, to the honour she is doing me and meaning me? She has given the most highly flattering reasons for making this application, in preference to listening to that of others; she has put it upon terms of commendation the most soothing; she is, indeed, one of the sweetest characters in the world. Will you, too, condemn me, then, that I feel thus oppressed by her proposal? I hope not, — I think not; — but be very honest if you really do. I wish I could see you! It is not from nervousness; — I have always and uniformly had a horror of a life of attendance and dependence....

  MISS BURNEY ACCEPTS THE QUEEN’S OFFER.

  [How Miss Cambridge replied is not known; but Miss Burney’s

  appreciation of the queen’s kindness, and the desire avowed

  by Dr. Burney and Mrs. Delany that so honourable and

  advantageous an offer should not be declined, induced her to

  accept it; and the following letters to her father show the

  final result of her deliberations, and her affectionate care

  to prevent him from perceiving her uneasiness.]

  FANNY BURNEY TO DR. BURNEY

  Monday, June 19.

  How great must have been your impatience, dearest sir but my interview has only this morning taken place. Everything is settled, and to-morrow morning I go to the queen’s Lodge, to see the apartments, and to receive my instructions.

  I must confess myself extremely frightened and full of alarms at a change of situation so great, so unexpected, so unthought-of. Whether I shall suit it or not, heaven only knows, but I have a thousand doubts. Yet nothing could be sweeter than the queen, — more encouraging, more gentle, or more delicate. She did not ask me one question concerning my qualifications for the charge; she only said, with the most condescending softness, “I am sure, Miss Burney, we shall suit one another very well.” And, another time, “I am sure we shall do very well together.”

  And what is it, dear Sir, you suppose to be my business? Not to attend any of the princesses — but the queen herself! This, indeed, was a delightful hearing, reverencing and admiring her as I have so sincerely done ever since I first saw her. And in this, my amazement is proportioned to my satisfaction; for the place designed me is that of Mrs. Haggerdorn, who came with her from Germany, and it will put me more immediately and more constantly in her presence than any other place, but that of Mrs. Schwellenberg, in the Court.

  The prepossession the queen has taken in my favour is truly extraordinary, for it seems as if her real view was, as Mr. Smelt hinted, to attach me to her person. She has been long, she told Mrs. Delany, looking out for one to supply the place of Mrs. Haggerdorn, whose ill health forces her back to Germany; “and I was led to think of Miss Burney, first by her books; then by seeing her — then by always hearing how she was loved by her friends; but chiefly by your friendship for her.”

  I fancy my appointment will take place very soon.

  Windsor, June 20.

  Most dear Sir,

  I am sure you will be glad to hear I have got one formality over, that was very disagreeable to my expectations. I have been introduced to Mrs. Haggerdorn whom I am to succeed, and to Mrs. Schwellenberg, whom I am to accompany. This passed at the queen’s Lodge, in their own apartments, this morning. I cannot easily describe the sensation with which I entered that dwelling, — the thoughts of its so soon becoming my habitation, — and the great hazard of how all will go on in it — and the sudden change!

  Everything was perfectly civil and easy; the queen had herself prepared them to receive me, and requested me to go. They made no use of the meeting in the way of business it was merely a visit of previous ceremony....

  The utmost astonishment will take place throughout the Court when they hear of my appointment. Everybody has settled some successor to Mrs. Haggerdorn; and I have never, I am very sure, been suspected by a single person. I saw, this morning, by all that passed with Mrs. S., how unexpected a step her majesty has taken. The place, she told me, has been solicited, distantly, by thousands and thousands of women of fashion and rank....

  FANNY BURNEY TO MRS. FRANCIS

  St. Martin’s-street, June 27.

  ... Her majesty has sent me a message, express, near a fortnight ago, with an offer of a place at Court, to succeed Mrs. Haggerdorn, one of the Germans who accompanied her to England, and who is now retiring into her own country. ’Tis a place of being constantly about her own person, and assisting in her toilette, — a place of much confidence, and many comforts; apartments in the palace; a footman kept for me; a coach in common with Mrs. Schwellenberg; 200 pounds a-year, etc.

  I have been in a state of extreme disturbance ever since, from the reluctance I feel to the separation it will cause me from all my friends. Those, indeed, whom I most love, I shall be able to invite to me in the palace — but I see little or no possibility of being able to make what I most value, excursions into the country.... I repine at losing my loved visits to Mickleham, Norbury, Chesington, Twickenham, and Ayle sham; all these I must now forego....

  You may believe how much I am busied. I have been presented at the queen’s Lodge in Windsor, and seen Mrs. Haggerdorn in office, and find I have a place of really nothing to do, but to attend; and on Thursday I am appointed by her majesty to go to St. James’s, to see all that belongs to me there. And I am now “fitting out” just
as you were, and all the maids and workers suppose I am going to be married, and snigger every time they bring in any of my new attire. I do not care to publish the affair till it is made known by authority; so I leave them to their conjectures, and I fancy their greatest wonder is, who and where is the sposo; for they must think it odd he should never appear!

  SECT. 7 (1786)

  MISS BURNEY ENTERS UPON HER COURT DUTIES.

  [The original editor of Madame D’Arblay’s Diary intimates

  that fictitious names have been given to one or two of the

  persons spoken of in the following portion of the work.

  These names we retain in the present text, but the following

  persons have been identified: —

  “Col. Fairly,” with Col. the Hon. Stephen Digby;

  “Col. Wellbred,” with Col. Greville;

  “Mr. Turbulent,” with the Rev. Charles de Guiffardiere; and

  “Miss Fuzilier” with Miss Gunning — ED.]

  THE QUEEN’S SUMMONS.

  Queen’s Lodge, Windsor, Monday, July 17

  With what hurry of mind and body did I rise this morning! Everything had already been arranged for Mrs. Ord’s carrying us to Windsor, and my father’s carriage was merely to go as baggage-waggon for my clothes. But I wept not then. I left no one behind me to regret; my dear father accompanied me, and all my dear sisters had already taken their flight, never more to return. Even poor little Sarah. whom I love very dearly, was at Chesington.

  Between nine and ten o’clock we set off. We changed carriage in Queen Ann-street, and Mrs. Ord conveyed us thence to Windsor. With a struggling heart, I kept myself tolerably tranquil during the little journey. My dear father was quite happy, and Mrs. Ord felt the joy of a mother in relinquishing me to the protection of a queen so universally reverenced. Had I been in better spirits, their ecstasy would have been unbounded; but alas! — what I was approaching was not in my mind — what I was leaving had taken Possession of it solely.

  Miss Port flew out to us as the carriage stopped — the youthful blush of pleasure heightening her complexion, and every feature shewing her kind happiness. Mrs. Delany, she said, was gone out with the queen. I took leave of my good Mrs. Ord, whose eyes overflowed with maternal feelings — chiefly of contentment. Mrs. Delany came home in about an hour. A chastened satisfaction was hers; she rejoiced in the prospect before me; she was happy we should now be so much united, but she felt for my deprivations, she saw the hard conflict within me, and the tenderest pity checked her delight.

  It was now debated whether I was immediately to go to the Lodge, or wait for orders. The accustomed method for those who have their majesties’ commands to come to them is, to present themselves to the people in waiting, and by them to be announced. My heart, however, was already sinking, and my spirits every moment were growing more agitated, and my sweet Mrs. Delany determined to spare me the additional task of passing through such awe-striking formalities. She therefore employed my dear father — delighted with the employment — to write a note, in her name.

  “Mrs. Delany presents her most humble duty to the queen; she found Dr. Burney and his daughter at her house. Miss Burney waits the honour of her majesty’s commands.”

  This, though unceremonious and unusual, she was sure the queen would pardon. A verbal answer came that I was to go to the Lodge immediately.

  O, my dear Susan! in what an agony of mind did I obey the summons! I was still in my travelling dress, but could not stay to change it. My father accompanied me. Mrs. Delany, anxiously and full of mixed sensations, gave me her blessing. We walked; the queen’s Lodge is not fifty yards from Mrs. Delany’s door. My dear father’s own courage all failed him in this little step; for as I was now on the point of entering — probably for ever — into an entire new way of life, and of foregoing by it all my most favourite schemes, and every dear expectation my fancy had ever indulged of happiness adapted to its taste — as now all was to be given up — I could disguise my trepidation no longer — indeed I never had disguised, I had only forborne proclaiming it. But my dear father now, sweet soul! felt it all, as I held by his arm, without power to say one word, but that if he did not hurry along I should drop by the way. I heard in his kind voice that he was now really alarmed; he would have slackened his pace, or have made me stop to breathe; but I could not; my breath seemed gone, and I could only hasten with all my might, lest my strength should go too.

  A page was in waiting at the gate, who shewed us into Mrs. Haggerdorn’s room, which was empty. My dear father endeavoured here to compose my spirits; I could have no other command over them than to forbear letting him know the afflicted state of all within, and to suffer him to keep to his own conclusions, that my emotion was all from fear of the approaching audience.

  The page came in a minute or two to summon me to the queen. The queen was in her dressing-room. Mrs. Schwellenberg was standing behind her: nobody else present.

  She received me with a most gracious bow of the head, and a smile that was all sweetness. She saw me much agitated, and attributed it, no doubt, to the awe of her presence. O, she little knew my mind had no room in it for feelings of that sort! She talked to me of my journey, my father, my sisters, and my brothers; the weather, the roads, and Mrs. Delany, any, every thing she could suggest, that could best tend to compose and to make me easy; and when I had been with her about a quarter of an hour, she desired Mrs. Schwellenberg to shew me my apartment, and, with another graceful bow, motioned my retiring.

  Not only to the sweet queen, but to myself let me here do justice, in declaring that though I entered her presence with a heart filled with everything but herself, I quitted it with sensations much softened. The condescension of her efforts to quiet me, and the elegance of her receiving me, thus, as a visitor, without naming to me a single direction, without even the most distant hint of business, struck me to shew so much delicacy, as well as graciousness, that I quitted her with a very deep sense of her goodness, and a very strong conviction that she merited every exertion on my part to deserve it.

  Mrs. Schwellenberg left me, — at the room door, where my dear father was still waiting for me, too anxious to depart till he again saw me.

  We spent a short time together, in which I assured him I would from that moment take all the happiness in my power, and banish all the regret. I told him how gratifying had been my reception, and I omitted nothing I could think of to remove the uneasiness that this day seemed first to awaken in him, thank God! I had the fullest success; his hopes and gay expectations were all within call, and they ran back at the first beckoning.

  This settled, and his dear countenance all fresh illumined with returning content, we went together to Mrs. Schwellenherg, where we made a visit of about an hour, in which I had the pleasure of seeing them upon very amicable terms; and then we had one more tete-a-tete all in the same cheering style, and he left me to drest, and went to dine with Mrs. Delany.

  Left to myself, I did not dare stop to think, nor look round upon my new abode, nor consider for how long I was taking possession; I rang for my new maid, and immediately dressed for dinner. I now took the most vigorous resolutions to observe the promise I had made my dear father. Now all was filially settled, to borrow my own words, I needed no monitor to tell me it would be foolish, useless, even wicked, not to reconcile myself to my destiny.

  The many now wishing for just the same — O! could they look within me. I am married, my dearest Susan — I look upon it in that light — I was averse to forming the union, and I endeavoured to escape it; but my friends interfered — they prevailed — and the knot is tied. What then now remains but to make the best wife in my power? I am bound to it in duty, and I will strain every nerve to succeed.

  A MILITARY GOURMAND.

  When summoned to dinner, I found Mrs. Schwellenberg and a German officer, Colonel Polier, who is now an attendant of Prince Charles of Mecklenburg, the queen’s brother, who is on a visit to their majesties. I was introduced to him a
nd we took our places. I was offered the seat of Mrs. Haggerdorn, which was at the head of the table; but that was an undertaking I could not bear. I begged leave to decline it; and as Mrs. Schwellenberg left me at my own choice, I planted myself quietly at one side.

  Colonel Polier, though a German officer, is of a Swiss family.

  He is a fat, good-humoured man, excessively fond Of eating and drinking. His enjoyment of some of the fare, and especially of the dessert, was really laughable; he could never finish a speech he had begun, if a new dish made its appearance, without stopping to feast his eyes upon it, exclaim something in German, and suck the inside of his mouth; but all so openly, and with such perfect good-humour, that it was diverting without anything distasteful.

  After dinner we went upstairs into Mrs. Schwellenberg’s room, to drink coffee. This is a daily practice. Her rooms are exactly over mine; they are the same size, and have the same prospect, but they are much more sumptuously fitted up.

  A SUCCESSION OF VISITORS.

  Colonel Polier soon left us, to attend Prince Charles. Mrs. Schwellenberg and I had then a long tete-a-tete, in which I found her a woman of understanding, and fond of conversation. I was called down afterwards to Miss Port, who was eager to see me in my new dwelling, and dying with impatience to know, hear, and examine everything about me. She ran about to make all the inquiries and discoveries she could for me, and was so highly delighted with my situation, it was impossible not to receive some pleasure even from looking at her. She helped me to unpack, to arrange, to do everything that came in the way.

  In a short time Madame de la Fite entered, nearly as impatient as herself to be my first visitor. She was quite fanciful and entertaining about my succeeding to Mrs. Haggerdorn, and repeatedly turned round to look at me fresh and fresh, to see if it was really me, and me in that so long differently appropriated apartment.

 

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